


The Grim&The Savage

by Lunasirnape257



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Hannibal The Grim, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasirnape257/pseuds/Lunasirnape257
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time there was a noble knight from the Great Duchy of Lithuania, who was called The Grim. Once upon a time there was a Teutonic young man, whose only wish was live into the woods. That's the story of how they crossed paths and what happened then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Macabro&Salvaje](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7283017) by [Lunasirnape257](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasirnape257/pseuds/Lunasirnape257). 



> The characters that appear in this story - except those who have never appeared on the tv show or in the novels/films relating to the character of Hannibal Lecter and, therefore, are entirely my invention and property to the development of the plot – don't belong to me. Its creation and rights are owned by Thomas Harris, Bryan Fuller, the NBC Channel and the DeLaurentis company.

The day his banner waved in the towers was a sunny day in mid-July.

He crossed the courtyard toward the kitchen, behind which there was a kitchen garden that was the pride of the cook. Beyond there, there was a moat of dark waters which served as defense for the Castle and as home for a small flock of black swans. Between this two was the gallows, where he was going. It had not been used in the five years had taken them to build the castle.

Five years. Build such a fortress used to take longer. However, the soldiers who had participated in its construction did work from dawn to dusk, driven by the promise of freedom when the last tile was placed on the roof of the last tower and the effigy of the boar waved in all of them... only then they would regain their status as free men.

The lord of the castle climbed to the top of the scaffold and faced the crowd that awaited him down. Around was his personal guard, distributed by the battlements and the backyard. The lord was a gentleman of great presence. His clothes evinced his nobility and his status as a warrior. He was tall, strong and slender. Straight hair - brown, with small streaks of gray that betrayed his true age - down his shoulders, framing a face of strong and well defined features, high cheekbones, and a pair of bright brown eyes in whose depths shone a streak of red.

He was feared in battle and respected outside it. Men were used to remain silence when he spoke and this time was no exception:

'Soldiers!' he addressed the crowd. 'You fought bravely against me in Zalgiris, so I forgave your lives. The day I brought you here I made you a promise: your freedom in exchange for a castle. You have fulfilled your part and now I meet mine. You are free. From now on, only you decide your fate: those who want to go, will find the doors open. And for those who prefer to stay and live in these land under my command,' he drew his sword and put the tip on the ground. Sunlight lit up the blade and the boar's head shaped ruby that adorned the hilt, 'I ask for your loyalty.'

A chorus of whispers spread among the congregation and after a few seconds the crowd was divided into two. A small group set off to leave the castle, while the rest - most of them - remained lining up to climb the scaffold and took their oath of allegiance.

One by one they were ascending, dropping to his knees in front of the noble knight and kissing the great ruby from his sword. With gestures and words they vowed lifelong loyalty to their new master, Count Hannibal Lecter... the first count of his lineage and the first of its name.

 

 

When he left the castle, he did it without looking over his shoulder.

He soon separated from the group to make his own path, leaving the others in their route to Vilnius: surely some of them would settle in there to start a new life, while others would continue their way back home.

He had no home. Neither a family. And for the first time in a decade, he lacked of master or lord. He was free to do what he wanted, go where he wanted... and he had very clear what he was going to do.

For five years he had seen those woods in the distance, during the breaks they allowed them to eat throughout the day. They were big and vast, they stretched forming a natural border between Count Lecter's lands and the capital of the Grand Duchy: the nearby city of Vilnius. When fatigue attacked him or work became too heavy, he just had to look up and see his freedom. He was know from the beginning – since the Earl made them his promise – that would come the day when the woods will receive him and then he never would have to leave their leafy arms again.

He kept walking, the breeze teasing his brown curls, his blue eyes fixed on the trees, without stopping. Each step made him closer and his heart beat faster for the thrill of fulfill his dream.

His first task would be to find the river. He knew it crossed the city before going deep into the woods in its long journey to the sea. If he could settle near to its waters before winter, he would almost assured his survival. If not...

Mother Nature was generous but also tough and cruel. Only the fittest survived. He had done it once, with help, and was not sure he could do it again. However risk was worth it because he was totally sure of one thing:

If he could help it, he'd never live among men again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The temperature of the water was perfect. He enjoyed swimming in the small lagoon and grooming each part of his body in its warm waters, feeling his skin clean and warm for the first time in days. Outside, the arrival of Autumn had brought with it rain and cold and a humidity sensation stretched through the forest.

After leaving Lecter's castle it had only taken him a few hours to find the river. He was following paths which showed the trails of beasts and men equally, since both depended on water to survive and of course they had established their own ways to access it. It was few weeks later, while exploring the terrain in search of a permanent settlement, when he had discovered the cave.

It was the perfect retreat.

It was a small set of interconnected galleries, not far from the river. Right in the center there was a large grotto, a natural reserve of fresh water itself. That was all he needed: a source of basic resources and a place where he was safe from the elements and predators. Besides the cave was almost uninhabited, as only he and the rats occupied it. His presence kept the rodents at bay, though it was only a matter of time they grow accustomed to his company and then they wouldn't be afraid of him. He knew that if he wanted to live in peace within those rock walls, he should make it clear that this was now his territory and other animals were not well received in it.

The process to establish his sovereignty in the cave took some days but the message was transmitted loud and clear. Since then, no other living creature had dared to enter into his domains...

Suddenly, he froze. The hairs on his neck prickled and he knew there was someone else in the grotto. He had not heard the intruder's footsteps because he had been too busy with his cleanliness but now the other was so close he could catch his scent: a smell of leather, rain and horse that definitely not belonged to that place. Then the shadow of a tall man was projected over him and the features of his unexpected visitor appeared reflected on the water surface, eclipsing his own.

It was Count Lecter.

'You have nothing to fear. I am not going to hurt you,' said the earl. His tone was firm and conciliatory, it contributed to calm a bit his agitated nerves. 'Why do not you turn around so we can see each other faces?'

He swallowed. He did not want to face him. He did not even want him to be there. Why his humans fellows could not let him alone? He had to find a way to made the Count go and didn't return. He didn't want to see compromised his refuge. But he had to be cautious and didn't show any offensive or challenging behaviour: the Count was a warrior, bigger and stronger than him. If he decided to use the force against him, he could do little to avoid the consequences... especially being naked and unarmed.

'Sir, you should go away. You are out of your lands.'

'How do you know I am out of my lands?' there was curiosity and suspicion in his voice. The young man kept silent. He had already spoken too much. 'You know who I am. And your accent is not Lithuanian, so I have to assume you are one of the Teutonic soldiers I freed last summer. Am I wrong?'

'I'm not a soldier, sir. I was the squire of Herr Wilhelm De Wernstein when you made me prisoner together with the rest of us. Your troops took the lives of many during the battle, including my lord's.'

'What is your name?'

'Will.'

'Get out of the water, Will, I want to see you.'

He closed his eyes for a moment, resigned to his fate. He could not do anything but obey. Trying to escape could provoque a persecution and if he'll harm the Count in the process, even if it were in self-defense, others would come to avenge so great affront. Being a commoner and a foreigner, he surely would be hanged for daring to attack a Lithuanian of noble blood.

He turned and left the lake without looking up from the ground. He stood before the Count, soaking wet and naked, with water trickling down his body to form a moisture puddle around his bare feet. The mane of brown curls clung to his scalp and shoulders. His appearance was that of a wet and helpless animal. And they both knew he was at the mercy of the knight.

Count Lecter covered the short distance between them and grabbed his chin gently to force him to look at him. Those brown eyes, with their strange reddish glow, seemed to watch him in awe.

'Are you a vision?' he ask. He would have sworn that there was admiration and rapture in the knight's voice.

'Did I look like a vision to you, sir?'

'You seem gorgeous to me, young nobleman.'

'I'm not a nobleman.'

'What are you, then?'

'Only a man who lives in the woods.'

A smile appeared on the Earl's lips. The noble's hand slid down his chin, his cheek and his hair, stroking them with something that could be called tenderness. However, under all it was obvious what he wanted... the same as everyone. He could read it in his eyes. Maybe if he gave it to him, he would go and leave him alone. Hopefully, he would be satisfied and would not return for more or would think of bringing others with him.

He captured the Count's hand and led it to his lips to kiss it, before dropping to his knees in font of the knight. His gesture caused the warrior contained his breath and, if he has any doubt about it, he was well aware of the desire he had been aroused in the man because from his height he was facing it directly.

'Are you sure of this?' the Count questioned him, tangling his fingers in his curls like a caress.

'Aren't you, sir?'

'If your are offering yourself willingly...'

The warrior took of his cloak. He laid it on the floor so they could be placed on top, which was a good thing because the garment softened by far the hardness of the rock on they are resting now.

He stood on all fours on the cape and the knight knelt behind him. He closed his eyes and let the Count do, trying to relax so that the experience was more bearable and praying for it to end soon. The earl's hands began a pleasant journey through his body, stroking and stimulating it, from his neck and hair to the bottom of his back...

Suddenly, the Count stopped. He closed his eyes tightly, knowing he had discovered it.

'What is this?' the nobleman asked, confused. His hands had stopped on both sides of the boy's hips.

'It's nothing, sir.'

'You have scars on your back. They are knife marks. Who had done this to you?'

'You don't have to contemplate them, Sir. Cover them, if its vision displease you.'

'I don't want to cover them.' the Count said, irritated by his evasiveness. 'They're there. I want to know its history. Told me.'

He sighed. The last thing he wanted was to remember. He had buried it and many others events in the back of his mind for years, precisely to avoid having to remember them. But it felt like the Count was gettin impatient for his story, so he would have to tell:

'I was a child when my parents died. My father was a woodcutter, we lived in the forest. When they died I was alone and wandered for months until the wolves found me. They took me with them like one of their puppys. I grew up in a herd.'

'With the wolves?' Count sounded surprised and fascinated at the same time. He showed no fear or rejection at the idea, as it would have done any other in his place. 'You're a feral child. I have heard stories about them. Keep going.'

'I was fifteen when Herr Werstein's soldiers hunted me in the woods and they led me to the Baron. They wanted to kill me but mylord decided I should be civilized: he thought I could be useful at his home, if I learned the proper skills.'

'And you did, you became his squire.'

'But before that I was feral, as you well have said. Mylord had to use the cane often to tame my temper.'

'And when the cane was not enough, he used the knife?'

'His soldiers did for him: when I tried to escape for the third time, having been warned of the consequences, mylord lost his patience and gave me to four of his guards... just for one night. He wanted me to learn a lesson and I did.'

'They marked you.'

'After using me: their knives left a reminder on my skin.'

The Count removed his hands from his body in the same way he would have moved away from a snake and he walked away from him. Moving to sit on the cape, the boy could see the expression of disgust in his face. No doubt his story had stolen all lust from him. Was it surprising? How appealing would be to any man a body that had been sullied by others, used ad nauseum and to top it marked? He could not blame the Earl for feel disgusted. He felt exactly the same.

Perhaps it was better that way. At least that saved him from having to buy peace with his favors...

'Do you know the identity of these men?.' the warrior asked suddenly. His face had become indecipherable. 'Those who did you that.'

He thought about it for a moment, trying not to dwell on the events.

'I heard them use two names, sir: Hans and Berger. Other than that, I know nothing.'

'Could you recognize their faces, if you saw them again?'

'Yes.' he pursed his lips. 'But what good is that? It was a long time ago and most of them perished in Zalgiris.'

'How many left alive?'

'Two.'

'Were they among the men who helped to build my castle?'

'Yes.'

There was silence. The Earl turned away abruptly, clearly to avoid look at him. He had no intention of disturbing the warrior, so he took his eyes off him and waited in silence his next move.

'Do me a favor. ' asked the nobleman. 'If in the future you join again to the wolves and perchance your path crosses with those men's... let your herd take charge of them. Okay?'

That caught his attention and he watched the warrior in surprise. It is not as if he hadn't toyed with the idea, many times throughout his life, especially during that infamous night. However, hearing a similar request from the lips of a man with whom he does not had any ties or obligations, a man whose status and blood drew him closer to the Baron who had ordered the punishment than the boy who had recieved it... well... it was at best surprising.

And despite that they shared the same view on the issue.

'I promise you to do so, if circumstances permit, sir. You can take it for granted.'

The count nodded, satisfied.

'I must go now. The rain has stopped and I have to return home. Go in peace, Will.'

The man said goodbye to him and left. He rose quickly to collect the cloak from the floor and ran to catch the Count.

'Wait!' he stopped him at the entrance of the cave. 'Your cape, sir. You forgetting it.'

The warrior smiled. He took the garment of his hands, shaking it out and then placed it on his shoulders. He smiled even more when he saw the stunned expression that crossed his face.

'You keep it.' he said. 'You can have it. It's a good cloak, it will protect you from rain and cold.'

'But...'

The Count did not let him finish. He turned and left, while he was still looking at him dumbfounded.

Rarely he had received a gift and never in the hands of a nobleman. It was well known that those blue blood did not deliver presents to anyone, unless there was a reason for it. Especially to commoners. And there was the Count, handing him his cloak in exchange of nothing.

He watched the garment, feeling strange about it: it was exquisite. Made of thick coppery wool, hooded and with animal hair ornaments on the neck and cuffs. Fantastic for cold days. Although the temperature in the cave was never excessive, at night he could need a little reinforcement, especially in winter. And it would be a blessing when he had to go hunting or fishing in the snow...

But still it wasn't a suitable garment for him. Too sophisticated. What was thinking its owner to give it to him?

He shook his head. Count Lecter was a very strange man.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Winter was coming when they met again.

He was in the courtyard, exerting himself with the sword in the company of the captain of his guard, when the boy's arrival distracted him: he recognized instantly the cloak covering that hooded figure, who at the time was talking to one of the guards at the entrance and it was the surprise that prevented him from seeing his opponent's blow until it was too late: he fell back to receive the full weight of the thrust, while he was trying to go back in the last moment to avoid it.

'Mylord, are you okay?' asked the captain, surprised.

'Yes.' he growled, standing up. 'I have distracted.'

He was perfectly aware of the confused look his subordinate gave him. They both knew distractions were not his custom in battle, even when it was a simulated skirmish. Normally he puts the five senses in everything he did.

'I believe we've had enough training for today, Bodhan.' he said, sheathing his sword.

'As you wish, mylord.'

The captain was dismissed with a bow and he returned to his duties. The Count walked toward the castle entrance, where Will was waiting for him. He did it with his heart flushed with excitement, as he was no stop thinking about the young savage during those weeks. Two months and he hadn't been able to get away from him. He had never met such a fascinating beautiful creature. The ties that bound them were mysterious and he often wondered if the boy would be some kind of spirit or demon and he would have bewitched him that afternoon in his cave... if so, he couldn't care less.

When he reach the doors, he could not take his eyes off of his visitor. The young man's appearance had become wilder if possible in the course of time: his hair had grown and he has put it up in a braid, pouring small and delicious curls on his forehead; under the bushy eyebrows were the biggest and bluest eyes - also the most beautiful - he had ever seen and the dark beard that covered his cheeks made him look a few years older than he actually was. He was barefoot and with semi-naked, dirty legs. His feet seemed tanned by the ground and his clothes were worn but still retained a decent look... especially his cloak, which he noted with satisfaction was the more careful piece of his wardrobe. No doubt the boy appreciated his gift.

'Mylord, this stranger asks to speak with you.' said the guard, when he stopped next to them. 'He says that the matter concerns you.'

'Of course. Leave us.' he ordered. The guard obeyed and he could finally focus all his attention on Will. He smiled at him, friendly. 'How nice to see you! I did not expect to meet you here. How's the woods treating you?'

'I have no complaints.' was the boy's terse reply. After a pause, he added: 'I have brought you something.'

He wore a dark band twill around his chest and tied behind his back. Anyone who saw it would have thought it was some kind of rudimentary bag. He also thought... until the boy show him the baby who slept inside. For his appearance and size, it would not long ago the child had born.

He stared at him in surprise.

'It's yours?'

'No.' the young man replied, slightly upset. 'We found him abandoned near to the oak grove. It's a boy. The herd cannot take charge of him and some of them tried to devour him. He was in your lands, so I brought him with you: it is your duty to take care of him.'

'Have you found a new pack? Have you settled in my lands?' Will remained silence. His blue gaze turned suspicious. 'Easy, I do not require submission or loyalty from the children of the forest.'

'Are you going to take charge of the baby?' he asked, now calmer.

'It is my duty, as you well have said. Let's go inside and we'll look for a maid to take care of him. He's going to need a wet-nurse.'

'I'd better give him to you and leave, sir. It'll be night soon and I'd like to come back with my folks.'

'I am confident that your folks wouldn't mind if you stay for a while.' he proposed. He really wanted to enjoy his company. An hour with him, that was all he asked for. 'We will leave the baby safely and then we can share some victuals and wine in the lounge, if you fancy. I'm sure that your body would certainly appreciate the rest and be treated as it deserves.'

Will frowned, instinctively stepping back.

'What do that mean?'

'That means some relief: I can give you a seat by the fire, fill your stomach, wash dirt off your feet and perhaps eliminate their pain with a massage...'

'The lord of the castle, master of the county, is going to massage a savage's feet?' he watched as if he'd just tell him that the Earth was round. 'Have you gone mad?'

He could not help but smile at the incredulity of his outburst. He liked to see him like that, taken by surprise. He was just so lovely. He made the distance between them shorter in order to try to convince him:

'It will not hurt you, Will. I'm always hospitable to my visitors, why I should not be with you? Also, if you want my help, we will have to work together. So if you don't mind...'

He turned around and walked away without waiting for him It did not take long to hear the footsteps of the young man behind him.

He led his visitor to the kitchen, where worked the cook's daughter - who had given birth recently – and she agreed to take charge of the baby. He puts in the woman hands the baby and a bag of coins, which will cover spare any expense or inconvenience that her new task would cause her and left the threat of his wrath fall upon her, if she not cared for the child properly. The woman nodded, as faithful as fearful of her master, and after obtaining Will's approval, they both left the kitchen toward the living room.

The lounge was a room built entirely of stone, except for the ceiling beams that were made of thick oak wood. There were huge woven tapestries on the walls, a bearskin rug and the Lecter's coat of arms adorning the fireplace. There was also a well disposed table right in the center, decorated with viands and spirits that would fill the stomachs of the castle until it was dinner time... which would not take long.

True to his word, the Count made Will occupy the best seat by the fireplace. Put into his hands a glass of the finest wine and exquisitest fruit and ignored his excuses as he ordered the servants bring him a basin with hot water and salt. He knelt in front of his visitor and washed his legs and feet carefully, drying them with a soft towel at the end. Will remained silent throughout the process: he had abandoned his attempts at resistance as his feet were submerged in water and he was fully aware of how much he actually needed the treatment.

Now the Earl could feel the boy's eyes fixed on his neck with the intensity of a branding iron. It was unclear whether he was analyzing him or condemning him for his actions.

'You're a very strange man sir.'

'What do you find strange in me?' he asked, raising eyes as his hands sliding up and down, massaging the young man's right leg.

'Why are you so nice to me?'

'I like being friendly. I like to take care of those that please me, Will, and you please me. I really have never met anyone like you: you are honest and genuine. I think you and I could complement each other very well.'

'We are very different, sir.'

'I don't think so.'

He left his leg gently on the ground, before start massaging the other leg as he fixing his brown eyes on the young man's, while his guest was silent. After a moment the boy shook his head, looked at him confused.

'If we were wolves, sir, I'd misinterpret your actions.'

'And what do you think about me, if we were wolves?' he asked, curious. 'What would you deduce for my actions?'

'I'd deduce you are courting me. But I know it cannot be possible.'

'Why not?'

The boy kept silence. A shadow of sorrow crossed his face, as his gaze down to the ground.

'I saw the look of your face in the cave, sir, after hearing my story. Before of that you wanted me... but not anymore. And I cannot blame you. You loathe my scars as much as I do.'

'Because they are disgusting, Will. It's disgusting what those men did to you.' he tried to capture the young man's look but could not because he kept his head bowed. He did not like not having access to his feelings. Suddenly, in his mind began to take shape a shocking possibility. 'Do you think your scars had made me stopped wanting you? That those marks makes you unworthy and prevent me from liying with you?'

'Why I shouldn't think otherwise?' he confronted him, his blue eyes exuding anger and anxiety. 'This scars took off from me any desire to lie with a man. Anyway, what man would share his bed with me? I'm just a savage with his back marked.'

'Will, don't...'

'I must go.' he freed his leg and jumped up from the couch. 'Thanks for your hospitality, sir, now I must go back to my family.'

'Wait a minute...'

He tried to grab him but it was impossible. He stood up and went after him, although the boy had the advantage. Soon they reached the courtyard and then he lost him in the crowd. He tried to follow his steps toward the exit, even crossing the castle gates, no finding more than loneliness when he reached the road. Will was then a spot in the distance, away from him at every step.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped, despondent. This was not how things should be.

 


	4. Chapter 4

When the two men woke up, all they saw around was the stone walls of a dungeon. A narrow window over their heads let in just enough light through its thick iron bars and the only way out was a thick oak door that, as was noted by they both, was locked.

They were locked up.

They looked each other, dumbfounded. They did not know how they had ended up there. Their last memory was being drinking beer in a tavern in Kaunas, sitting at the table with the soldier who was in his way to Vilnius...

Suddenly, the cell door was opened. They fell over his eyes in the glow of torches, as the door closed again after the man who had just entered. When they could finally see properly, they realized they were facing Count Lecter, his former master.

The knight wore elegant as ever but intimidating with his high hat and thick fur coat. His gloved hand rested on the hilt of his great sword. He watched them up and down, as if he evaluated them before speaking:

'Carsten Berger and Hans De Clove, I assume.'

There was a moment of tense silence until the nearest soldier, De Clove, a tall man with brown hair and a mustache, decided to speak:

'Those are our names, sir. Could you kindly tell us why we are here?'

'I had bring you here because I need you give me certain information. And until I get what I want, you will remain under my roof.'

'We are accused of something?' asked timidly the other soldier. He was blond, more robust and short than his partner. 'Have we committed any offense against you, sir?'

Count Lecter passed over him with his eyes. Both soldiers stepped back from that red glow in the eyes of the noble which explained, in their opinion, all the stories that ran over him throughout the county and why people call him The Grim. With a man like that it was better to be careful.

'Answer my questions.' he ordered them. 'You were servants of Wilhelm De Werstein, right?'

'That's true, my lord.' Clove nodded.

'How many years do you served him?'

'Many. At least a decade.'

'You knew his squire? The last of them, a young man who came from the woods.'

'The savage!' Carsten said. His face showed all the displeasure that the mere mention of the boy provoked him. 'What misdeed has he perpetrated this time? He is evil, my lord. You should keep yourself from him.'

'I understand that your former master tried to civilize him.' the Count blurted, directing his eyes toward the blond soldier.

'That's right.' admitted the man, scowling. 'It took him months of hard work. The boy was totally wild: he couldn't walk nor talk like men, sir. He ate raw foods. He growled and howled and bit anyone who approached him. We all thought it was better than the Baron sacrifice him but Herr Wilhelm was determined. He was extremely patient with him, much more than that little beast deserved.'

'Were you among the group of soldiers that took charge of his punishment, the last time he tried to escape?'

'Yes, my lord. He was always on the run, whenever he could. He never appreciated any of the advantages Herr Wilhelm gave him. Mylord finally lost his patience and wanted to teach the savage a lesson: he ordered us to subdue him and that's what we did. It took us horrors but after of that the savage finally turned meek and stopped causing problems.'

'Your knives marked the skin of his back.'

'As a reminder. And as punishment too: you do not know how it was, sir, that boy was possessed by the devil. He scratched and bit us like the beast he was. He tore a piece of Cord's cheek with a single bite. We had to tie him to a pole and put a muzzle on him to subdue him and still he continued fighting us, until he overcame. I swear if Herr Wilhelm hadn't ordered us, none of us would have ever come to that monster.'

Count took a deep breath. His face was impassive and his hand still gripped his sword tight.

'What happened to the other soldiers who participated?' he asked with a distant voice, slightly contained.

'They perished in Zalgiris, my lord. We are the only survivors.'

'That's all I needed to hear.'

He turned around and made his way toward the door. He banged on the door for them to open it and left the dungeon as quickly as possible. Both soldiers saw him go, confused by his reaction.

They reached to hear the orders that the Count gave the guard who was the other side:

'Let them stay there until I find them again. And take care they do not lack of food: I want them well nourished for the winter.'

'It will be done, my lord.'

The soldiers looked at each other, dumbfounded. What the hell was going on?

 

 

 

A few weeks passed and winter came to settle. December arrived with a large snowfall and in its early days, Count Lecter devoted part of its efforts to explore their lands, when he was not busy with his duties.

The pack settled on Lecter's lands had its territory not far from the oak forest. Hannibal tracked them for days to get an inkling of their habits and areas that they used to frequent. Only on a couple of occasions he could see Will from afar, distinguishing him by his cloak even when he was moving on all fours like the rest of his peers. See him living among wolves, adapting his behaviour to the wild, seemed fascinating to him. He felt admiration and envy because the boy had found his place among equals and lived as he wanted. He was free and wild and nobody can prevent him from that.

He was excited to see him face to face again. He had prepared his gift with all care for him and his brothers and waited impatiently to give it to them. As the pack was located, he returned to pick up the prisoners and they set out together into the woods. They settled in the center of wolves's territory and only they had to wait a day until the wolves approached their camp to spy on the intruders.

That morning, Will met him in the forest. Winter had made him lost weight and he had a sharp blade stone – like a knife - attached to his belt. Hannibal could not help a smile when he saw him.

'What are you doing here?' asked the young man, scowling.

'I was looking for you. I'm glad you found me. Are your family with you?'

'Why do you want to know it?' he asked, cautious.

'I bring you a present.' he gestured and Will follow him, walking to a nearby tree under which rested the two soldiers, bound and frightened. Will recognized them instantly, turning to look at Hannibal with surprise. 'I made track and bring them to me. Do you remember the conversation we had in the cave? You said if you succeed in join another pack and eventually you bumped into these two...'

'Do you brought them for that? ¿Do you want I...?'

'If you wish, they are yours. Their lives mean nothing to me. In fact, I would gladly end them if it were not for revenge is yours, not mine. It must be you who decides their fate.'

'Why are you doing this?' he asked, without understanding. 'Why do you care about I getting what I want?'

'Because I want you get everything you deserve. And because it is fair.' he approached to him, coppery eyes fixed on his intently. 'I know what they did to you, Will, they have confessed. I know everything. I want they suffering for the pain they have caused you. I want to repay you for their crime. I want to see them die like the beasts they are because that's all they deserve. They treated you like an animal but you are not. The marks in your back only show that they are the savages, not you. Believe me, Will, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you.'

His words hit the boy. Looking ahead to the eyes of the Count, those eyes full of strength and sincerity, the young man felt a lump forming in his stomach and rose to his throat, threatening to drown him in tears.

Nobody, not even he himself, had never said him such a thing. All were satisfied when his behaviour changed, especially his master, who often thanked the effectiveness of the treatment to tame his wildness. During all those years that he felt dirty and empty, broken inside, he had been unable to see his scars. Not only because of its position, which made it impossible, but a cause of the memories they brought to his mind and that tortured him, churning his stomach, and filled him with rage and shame. Think about those scars, about their meaning... it caused him too much pain to bear.

And suddenly he felt relief, a strange release he could not explain. Hannibal's words had caused that effect. Suddenly, a man he barely knew was setting his part and uttered words that no one had dared to pronounce because they didn't believed in them. He was overwhelmed by the concern the Count showed for his welfare. In one second it passed through his mind all the gestures of kindness the nobleman had had with him: allowing them to settle in his lands without requiring his submission and loyalty in return, as would be expected; welcoming him at his home when he appeared there for the first time, filling his empty stomach and humiliating his noble status to massage his aching feet; He had even given him his cloak as a gift to protect him from the cold, the same day they met. And now all those troubles he was taking to do him justice, to restore the honour and dignity that others had taken from him by force.

He looked into his eyes, moved. He did not care if he was doing everything just to put him in his bed. The Count's actions showed him he could trust the man, that he was his friend and was willing to take care of him and support him when he needed it. He doesn't asked for more. That was more than enough to earn the Earl his friendship.

'What do you have in mind?' he asked, curious.

'Your folks are here?'

'They are.' he nodded. They were hidden around them, watching.

'So let's not make them wait then. It's lunch time.'

He drew the hunting knife he wore pinned in his belt and proceeded to approach the prisoners. But before he came to them, Will stopped him: he put a hand on his, shaking his head at the same time.

'Go away. Let me handle it.'

'I want to see how they do.'

'From a distance.' he warned him. 'Because when the blood starts to run and the hunting began, my brothers didn't distinguish between you and them. I'd rather you not ended in their jaws.'

'Okay.' he left to ride on his stallion and holding the reins, he came to him only a moment to say goodbye. 'Good hunting, Will.'

The boy smiled.

'Thank you.'

Hannibal smiled back before leaving. Will, drawing his own flint knife, approached the soldiers. Despite being bound and gagged, they tried to flee between gasps. The young man showed them the same mercy that once they demonstrated with him: unceremoniously feature their clothes and skin, pouring blood to attract his folks.

Wolves soon get the message. Hannibal watched from afar as half a dozen of them emerged from the forest to apply wild justice... and he smiled satisfied.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story finished. As always, I must say thank you to all my readers. I hope you had enjoyed this little tale and maybe it have made you considerate the idea of read the next. Whatever, I only wish to entertaint you with my letters. Take care, dearies, see you soon ;)

Once they devoured their lunch, he and his brothers had retreated into the woods. And when night fell, he separated from his family to sneak into the castle and pay Hannibal a visit.

The Count and he had a score to settle.

Upon reaching the vicinity of the castle he looked toward the top of the keep, where the master's chambers were located and the recognizable glimpsed of a candle indicated him that despite the lateness of the hour, the Count had not gone to sleep yet.

It was the moment.

He did not want to stop arguing with the guards to let him see the Count in the middle of the night, so he used his knowledge of the castle's architecture to evade the guard and reached without being seen to the tower, specifically to the apartments of the noble knight.

He knocked the door and heard from the other side the answer he expected:

'Come in!' he opened the door and entered the room. Hannibal was sitting by the fireplace, reading. He was astonished to see him and he rose inmediately, putting his reading aside. He received him with a broad smile. 'Will! What a wonderful surprise! I did not expect you to come.'

'I needed to see you. I hope my interference doesn't bother you.'

'Not at all. You are welcome in my house whenever you want.' he turned and pointed to a table under the window, which was adorned with a bowl overflowing with fresh fruit and a jug which content he recognized instantly. 'Can I offer you some refreshment? A berries liquor, perhaps? I know you like it.'

'Thank you. I would prefer us to be direct to the point.'

The Count looked at him blankly. To make him understand, Will took off his camisole and cloak. Hannibal froze, seeing him naked for the second time in his life. He blinked, dumbfounded.

'Will, what...?'

'There was a time when you wanted me.' he came up to him and took his hand to put it on his chest. The knight seemed to have been frozen. He guided the man's hand with his until his stomach, a caress designed to arouse the carnal appetites of both. 'Perhaps you still want me enough to allow me to return all the good things you have done for me. You deserve a reward for your kindness, sir.'

'No.'

'What?' he watched him, surprised by his answer.

'I've said no.' repeated the Count, tensely. His brown eyes stared at him, confused and angry. 'How can you think of doing such a thing? Are you trying to pay me with your body for favors I've done willingly, without expecting anything in return? You're not a whore, Will. Have a little more respect for yourself. And for me.'

His sudden outburst made him stepped back, confused.

'I thought...'

'Put on your clothes.'

Hannibal picked up his garments from the floor. He offered them to him with stony face and a rictus of disgust on his face. He knew then he had offended his friend and felt deeply ashamed for that. He could feel the flush in his cheeks, as he picked up the clothes from the Earl's hands and put it on.

'Forgive me, sir. It was not my intention to offend you. I... I'll leave now.'

'No.' he stopped him. He snorted. 'Stay. I will not send you back into the woods with this cold, as carrying so little coat. You would end up sick. What were you thinking?'

'The cold does not affect me like it affects you. But if you wish me to stay...'

'Do it. Let's forget all this nonsense sharing a glass of liquor.'

The Earl turned away from him to go to the table and bring back the bottle of berries liquor and two small cups. He held back his chair as he poured the liquid into the two cups and put Will's on the other side of the small table... a subtle way to invite him to take a seat, which he did.

'I'm sorry.' Will apologized. 'I didn't mean to make you angry with my behaviour, sir. I just wanted to show you my appreciation. I thought you would be happy if you had me.'

'And I would, if you decided to give yourself to me by choice, not obligation... much less by gratitude. Did I've ever asked you for something in return?' he asked and Will was forced to deny with his head. The Count had never asked for anything, despite having given him so much. 'Then don't treat us this way: don't underestimate my feelings for you, as if all that I wanted was to have a roll in the hay, and don't sell yourself so cheap, getting into my house at night like a thief and offering your body as a payment. You worth much more than that, Will. It offends me you think otherwise. I expected better of you.'

The Count stood and stepped away from the table, turning his back on him. Seeing this, he felt on the verge of tears. His friend's rejection hurt more than he expected. He had gone there with his best intentions, determined to give back and to please his host and all he had accomplished was offending him with his actions. Now Hannibal was mad at they both. But all that he wanted was the Count felt so good in his company as he felt in his. Was it so hard to make him understand that?

'We should go to sleep, it's late.' said the Count at that moment. 'Choose where you want to spend the night.'

He swallowed, while diverting eyes downcast.

'I was intended to spend it with you. I would have chosen the carpet because my body is not used to the softness of the mattress. But don't worry, I'll sleep in one of the chairs.'

'Don't be stupid.' he blurted. To Will's surprise, the Earl returned on his steps and began to set aside the furniture to make space. 'I want to make it clear that I don't refuse to sleep with you and don't deny that it has been my wish from day one. But I wont consent you to come to my bed... or my carpet... moved by anything other than desire or willingness. Neither gratitude nor obligation, do you understand?'

'I do.' he rose, a smile dancing in his lips. His actions betrayed his friend and showed he was not angry anymore. 'Will you sleep with me?'

'Didn't I make myself clear?' he asked and Will shook his head, smiling slightly. 'I'll bring pillows, thus we were more comfortable.'

While Hannibal went and came, Will lay on the ground, lulled by the heat of the fireplace. He was relieved as things had turned out and was happy to have recovered the friend who just minutes before he seemed about to lose. Think about this caused him great distress and maybe that was why when the Count lay at his side, he could not help making a move to take his hand in his. Hannibal reacted surprised at first but after a moment he laced his fingers with his and he turned to look at him, puzzled.

'I do not want to lose you.' he confessed, looking into the Count's eyes. 'You're kind and take care about me. At your side I feel safe. No man had never made me feel so.'

'You've received so little kindness by men.'

Will pursed his lips at the thought.

'The wolves of the forest are more noble than many men.'

'I agree with that.' Hannibal was placed on its side and reached out to gently caress Will's cheek and hair. 'I want the best for you. I don't want you to miss anything or to be unhappy.'

'I know. For that reason I decided to give myself to you: it was not just gratitude. I've found what I want in you. You have earned my trust and have shown me I can lean on you if I need. I know you have not done all this for me just to get me into your bed. And I know that when you look at me, you do not mind at all that I was a savage.'

'There's nothing wrong with being savage. You can be anything you want, Will. I will keep loving you, whatever you were.'

His words moved him. He smiled and sought refuge against his chest. Hannibal received him in his arms and dropped affectionate kisses on his face and hair, fiddling with his ear so exquisitely that it caused tremors throughout Will's body.

No doubt the Count was aware of the effects that his attentions had on him and he persisted on them more and more. His hands began to slide up and down his body, first down his back to his legs, making a brief stop on his buttocks, and then by his neck to his chest. His lips also caressed him, turning on fire on every piece of skin they touched.

He could have stopped him at any time but such a possibility was not even passed through his mind. In fact, his brain seemed dulled by a haze of joy, a feeling that he had never experienced: his few experiences with men were limited to the brutality of his abusers or the lust of those noblemen he could not escape, or even his master had pushed him to please, guided by his own interests.

This was totally different.

He felt no fear, no humiliation, no anger... only pleasure and desire. When he made Hannibal to lie down on his back and mounted him astride, his body was burning for something that only his partner could give him. Something that clearly both wanted because Hannibal didn't waste his time and took them both of their camisoles, seeking their bodies could achieve a greater intimacy.

He began to move his hips rhythmically and Hannibal imitated him. Their skins touching was the more exquisite feeling in the world: to share that excitement between the two; to have all control, enjoy the freedom and the power; feel his lover's gentle movements beneath him; hear his rapid breathing and the grunts coming from his throat; his hands which did not stop to caress him, stimulating and increasing the temperature of his body until it was almost unbearable.

Finally, the bubble burst and pleasure hit them both with a savage force. Will finished lying on Hannibal, both sweaty and trembling, unable to do anything but try to regain their breath.

Still he felt his body languid when his partner embraced him and pressed a last kiss on his hair. The gesture made him smile and snuggled against his chest without exchanging words, just hearing the pounding heart of the knight in his ear. He got used to that wonderful sound and as his rhythm was decreasing, so it was increasing his level of sleep.

Will fell asleep listening to the heart of his partner, feeling safe and happy.

**THE END**

 


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